


Prenuptial Agreements

by queenfanfiction



Category: Fake News RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-16
Updated: 2010-09-16
Packaged: 2017-10-11 21:30:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/117330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queenfanfiction/pseuds/queenfanfiction
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stephen gives up a weekend alone with his family, and Jon has to shave off his beard. But such are the things they must do for love. (And maybe Stephen will be more careful about what he says on his show...)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Prenuptial Agreements

**Author's Note:**

> I make many references to actual TDS and TCR clips in this fic, such as: [Stephen's plan to ruin gay marriage](http://www.colbertnation.com/the-colbert-report-videos/343140/august-05-2010/how-to-ruin-same-sex-marriages), [Jon and Stephen's toss about the beard](http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/thu-july-29-2010/daily-colbert---jon-s-beard), and [Jon explaining why Beardy ran away](http://www.thedailyshow.com/watch/tue-august-10-2010/intro---beardy-ran-away). Also, if anyone wants to write a porn!fic where Tracey and Evie cash in on Jon's not-quite-serious promise of gay sex, I WILL NOT STOP YOU OK. IN FACT, I MIGHT JUST ENCOURAGE YOU.

Stephen was already in the kitchen when the phone went off at seven forty-five on Friday morning, and he answered it before the second ring so as not to wake Evie or the kids. "How'd you know I'd be up?" he said by way of greeting.

"Didn't," came Jon's scratchy voice from the other end. "This a bad time?"

"Nah, just making breakfast." Stephen checked the latest batch of eggs that Evie had picked up, deemed eighty percent of them usable, and consigned the failing twenty percent to the garbage. "What can I do for you, boss-man?"

"I'm not your boss any more, Stephen," Jon chided, but Stephen can tell that Jon's smiling. "Nothing, just thought I'd check in, see if you had any plans for the weekend—great show last night, by the way."

"Same to you." Stephen cracked an egg on the edge of his mixing bowl and watched the golden yolk swirl amidst a mound of Bisquick flour. He started stirring the egg into the flour as he spoke. "Well, let's see—we'll be having pancakes in a few hours, once the kids are up, and there's this Antarctica exhibit at the Natural History Museum Peter's been wanting to visit all month, and then Evie and I might see a show on Saturday and—"

"Stephen. STEPHEN." Jon had to shout to cut through Stephen's rambling. "You didn't checked your e-mail this morning, did you."

"No, not yet. Why, should I?"

"Might be a good idea, yeah," Jon said drily.

Stephen sighed, settled the phone between his good ear and his shoulder, then hefted the mixing bowl and spoon under his other arm before retreating to the den. Jon waited in silence while Stephen sat down in front of the computer, logged in, and started clicking through his recent e-mails.

"Funny," Stephen said after a few minutes. "I don't remember buying any plane tickets to San Francisco at two-thirty this morning. I'm pretty sure Evie and I were asleep by then."

"Yeah, about that." Jon had enough grace to sound sheepish. "I was watching your show last night, and it gave me an idea. Well, several ideas, actually—"

"Wait a second," Stephen interrupted. "You bought these tickets on MY frequent-flier miles?"

"What? Oh. Yeah, I did. Evelyn gave me the numbers and I figured it would be easier that way—for you, I mean."

Stephen thought about Evie, about Evie still asleep in their bed, about Evie who knew Jon for even longer than he did. "Should I be worried about you having a sordid affair with my wife, Stewart?"

"What? No! Stephen, that's not the point here!"

"Then please do enlighten me, because I'd love to know why you bought us five tickets to San Francisco for Saturday!"

There was a long pause. "Stephen, I—" Jon fake-coughed and cleared his throat. "Stephen, will you marry me?"

Stephen took a deep breath, grabbed his hair in both fists, and pulled as hard as he could to make sure he was awake. He was. "Jon, it's way too early to start messing with my mind."

"I'm not—Stephen, for the love of—just listen for a second! Look, you know how we've been trying and trying for ages to come up with some way to support gay marriage other than the monologues and the correspondent pieces, yeah? I'd been drawing blanks until I saw your show last night and then, well, I couldn't go to sleep at _all,_ I was that excited! There's so much satirical potential in it, it's amazing!"

Stephen felt his mouth go dry. "Christ, Jon, you didn't—you didn't think I was talking about YOU, did you?"

"Of course you were!" Jon snorted. "You weren't exactly being subtle, you know. Getting married to a Jewish Jonathan—they say the blogosphere practically imploded during the first commerical break."

"But your mother's name isn't Janet."

"And your wife's name isn't Lorraine," Jon retorted. "The point is, you and I can go get married in California show! The two of us getting married clearly wouldn't ruin everyone else's straight marriages, see? And what's great is that we already have Monday off, so everyone with hangovers will have time to recover before our next show. Oh yeah, and Wyatt said he's coming. So's Oliver—he already booked us a place in Big Sur for Sunday and everything. Sam and Jason wanted to come, but you know, their next anchor-baby's on the way and all that, and Steve and Rob promised to swing by if they've got the time."

Jon had to have been up all night, to be able to reach so many Daily Show correspondents in that short of a time. Stephen suspected the man's current excited state was mostly due to a constant intake of caffeine over the course of the night. "You do realize I'm supposed to be _against_ gay marriage on my show, right?"

"But that's what's so brilliant about this!" Jon's grin was audible through the phone, the bastard. "While I'm supporting gay marriage, you can say you're just trying to ruin it like you said on the show last night. But you're still actually supporting it, too! See what I mean?"

"Kinda," Stephen said, though it hurt even his own head to work it out. "But you're forgetting something else. I'm happily married. So are you."

"Oh, that doesn't matter. Since it's not legal in Cali yet, it won't really count except in symbolism. Besides, Tracey's fine with it, and so was Evelyn when I asked."

"WHAT?" Stephen squawked, too shocked to keep his voice down. "You—you asked Evie?!"

"Well, yeah. Like I said, I needed your frequent flyer number. You were asleep already, I think. She and Tracey agreed to it when I promised there would be gay sex involv—"

"Right then," Stephen ground out, trying not to think about what trouble Jon had potentially gotten them into with their wives. "Anything else I should know about before you kidnap me to California and—why am I even saying this—marry me without my consent?"

"Without your consent? Of course not! That's why I'm calling you now. I'm not going to do anything without your approval on it." Jon paused. "So what's it gonna be? A weekend with the family, or a weekend in Big Sur doing something big?"

Stephen really, _really_ wanted to tell Jon where he could stick his weekend in Big Sur, preferably someplace where the sun didn't shine, but something made him hold back. Jon was his friend (and even more than that, despite all the bitching Stephen did while in-character); and what was more, Jon was right. This was the chance to do something, to stand up for something bigger than all of them put together. It was something that was even bigger than spending some old-fashioned quality time with his family...

...but then, Jon _had_ bought enough tickets to San Francisco for his whole family. Maybe Peter would't mind visiting one of the museums there instead.

Stephen took a deep breath. "Let's do this. But!" he added over Jon's loud whoop of delight. "On one condition. Before the ceremony, the beard goes, or else I'm using the original script."

"What? Why?"

"Apart from that thing making you look like a stoned rabbi at a gay dentist's?" Stephen smirked as a line popped into his head. "Because when the rabbi says we can kiss, I don't want it to feel like a punishment, Stewart."

Jon chuckled. "I might have to tell my audience you said that, Colbert."

"You really should. I'm sure our fangirls will be pleased," Stephen said, and he hung up to the sound of Jon's laughter.

As he started to get up from the chair, Stephen felt two bare arms wrap around his shoulders and gently push him back down. "Morning, sweetie," Evie breathed into his good ear, then kissed him on the cheek. "Let me guess. Jon called?"

"Yeah." Stephen took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm not sure yet whether I made the greatest decision of my life, or the biggest mistake."

Evie laughed and kissed him again. "I'll help the kids pack," she said, leaning over to pick up the abandoned mixing bowl. "I think you still have some vows to write for your new Mr. Right, don't you? But I'm still your Mrs. Right, and you'd better remember it."

"Always." Stephen quirked a half-smile. "I knew there was a reason I married you."

As Evie left for the kitchen, Stephen could've sworn he heard her say, "There'd better be plenty of hot gay sex this weekend or we won't be married much longer," but he was pretty sure that was his bad ear imagining things again.

* *

Sunday turned out to be perfect for the not-exactly-legal civil-union ceremony of Jonathan Leibowitz and Steve Colbert ("With a hard T! I'm not French, dammit!" "Yeah, not like that loud-mouth guy on TV who never shuts up." "Why thank you, _Jonathan._ "). The sun shone brightly throughout the entire service (on the beach, white linen casual with everyone barefoot and wiggling their toes in the sand just as Stephen had imagined), loving friends and family were in full attendance on both sides of the aisle (Tracey and Evie looked just a touch too happy for the occasion, and that worried Stephen, but only for a moment), and the cupcakes Wyatt and John had picked out for the reception were simply delectable ("There's plenty enough for everyone, Stephen, and they're delicious! We checked!" "Yeah, and lots of lube for after, too. We made sure they were high quality. Not at the same time as the cupcakes, though." "Well, thank God for small favors.")

And when Stephen kissed Jon in front of everyone, it didn't feel like a punishment. It felt like the best (and smoothest, and most-perfect) reward he could ever ask for.


End file.
